


II. Define Who I Am

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-23
Updated: 2006-06-23
Packaged: 2018-09-03 08:17:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8704759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Dean continues to struggle with possibly losing Sam. Second in the Defining Series.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

_**II. Defining Series DEFINE WHO I AM (Supernatural D/S)**_  
 **Title:** Define Who I Am  
 **Author:** Shorts  
 **Pairings/Character:** Dean/Sam  
 **Rating:** NC17  
 **Category:** Slash  
 **Word Count:** 996  
 **Note** Sequel to Defining Normal  
  
  
  
II. DEFINE WHO I AM  
By Shorts  
  
Dean jerked awake, jostling Sam lying beside him as he sat up. His eyes quickly scanned the room, but he found nothing out of place. Next, he reached out and brushed Sam's shaggy bangs back from his forehead, staring into soft brown eyes filled with worry . . . and life.  
  
"Dean? What is it?" Sam's voice was barely above a whisper, but it held volumes. He saw fear reflected in those hazel eyes and his heart skipped.  
  
"It's nothing," sighed Dean, lying back down, his heart rate gradually slowing. "Go back to sleep."  
  
"Was it a nightmare?" asked Sam, propping himself up on an elbow and resting his hand on Dean's bare chest. He could feel the hard, rapid thumping of his heartbeat.  
  
"No," said Dean, as he stared at the ceiling. Just dreaming about you dying in my arms, that's all, he thought to himself.  
  
Sam merely raised an eyebrow and waited.  
  
"Stop staring at me, or you will give me nightmares," snapped Dean. He was still rattled, but he had learned a long time ago how to deal with bad dreams. The first thing you do to dispel them is to assure yourself that's all it was, a bad dream.  
  
"Very funny," said Sam, waiting for Dean to talk to him.  
  
"Just let it go," said Dean, "It's not a big deal."  
  
"You only wake up like this when something is about to attack, or you have a nightmare," pointed out Sam. He made a show of looking around. "It doesn't appear anything is crashing into the room."  
  
"I don't want to talk about it," mumbled Dean, refusing to look at him.  
  
"Does it have anything to do with earlier?" asked Sam.  
  
Dean bit his bottom lip, his eyes still fixed on the ceiling overhead.  
  
Sam sighed and laid his head on Dean's shoulder, sliding over until he was pressed along his side. "Dean, there are no guarantees. We know that, more than anyone else."  
  
"Right," said Dean, exhaling loudly. "Why worry about the future, when there might not even be one?"  
  
"Don't even joke about that," said Sam.  
  
"Who's joking? You said it yourself, you're the one with the visions and you don't even know what the future holds for us," said Dean.  
  
"Most people don't know what's going to happen," pointed out Sam. "What I do know is that we're bound to each other by something that is stronger than the blood running in our veins. No matter what happens, that will never be broken. Even if we end up traveling separate paths." He settled himself completely on top of Dean, sliding his hands under his shoulders and hugging him tight, listening to the strong, steady beat of his heart.  
  
Dean brought his arms up and held him, slowly running his hands up and down his back. "When we finally kill this thing and settle the score, I'll let you go. If that's what you really want, I won't try and make you stay. Just so long as you know that when you go, I'm gone." He felt Sam try to pull away, to lift up and look at him, but he tightened his hold, keeping Sam from seeing the bright shimmer in his eyes.  
  
"It's the only life I know how to live and the only way I know how to be. I can't change," continued Dean. "And I can't keep losing you."  
  
"But you don't have to lose me," argued Sam, finally breaking Dean's hold. He raised himself up and looked down at him. "Why does it have to be one way or the other with you?"  
  
"Because it's the way it is," answered Dean, sliding his hands down Sam's shoulders and gently holding onto his arms. "You think I'm being selfish wanting you to stay with me, but you're doing the same thing. You're asking me to pretend to be someone I'm not, to be with you."  
  
"Dean, we pretend to be someone we're not all the time," said Sam.  
  
"But we don't pretend with each other," said Dean. "And that's what you're asking me to do. I can't turn my back on who I am, Sam, and I'm a hunter. No more, no less."  
  
Sam was quiet, searching for the words to convince Dean that there had to be a way for them both to be happy. In the end, the truth of it came down to him. He was the reason their future together was uncertain."Then what am I?"  
  
"That's a question you're going to have to answer for yourself," said Dean, hurting at Sam's lost, little boy tone.  
  
Sam's mouth moved slightly, but no words came out. He pleaded with his eyes for Dean to help him, to fix this like he's always fixed things before.  
  
"It's going to take time for you to search your soul and find who you are," said Dean, brushing the back of his fingers down Sam's uncut cheek. "All the different parts of you will eventually come together, and then you'll know."  
  
"How do I do that without losing something of myself?" asked Sam.  
  
"You're just going to have to think it through." Dean wished he had all the answers. It would make everything so much easier, but he didn't.  
  
"You're always telling me I think too much," said Sam with a small, uncertain smile.  
  
"Yeah, well, then you shouldn't have any problems, should you?" grinned Dean. He jumped as Sam proceeded to pinch him right above his hip.  
  
"You're such a smartass sometimes," said Sam, wiggling into a more comfortable position as he settled on top of Dean. He nudged one of Dean's legs aside and rested his head under his chin.  
  
"But I'm your smartass," replied Dean, shifting to accommodate his brother's lanky build. Once Sam was comfortable, his grin faded. The memory of his nightmare came back to haunt him, causing him to wonder if maybe he should encourage Sam to leave.


End file.
